Midnight Letter
by Jill2
Summary: Buffy writes a letter to Angel. # 7 in the "Midnight"-series


FIC: Midnight Letter (1/1)   
Author: Jill  
Disclaimer: let me check ... nope, still don't own them. Sigh! Parts of this is   
taken from the Buffy-season-5 episodes "Fool For Love" and "Shadow". I was   
inspired by "A Letter To Riley", a great story, written by Deb Nockels. Go and   
check it out if you haven't done already.  
Rating: PG-13  
Pairing: B/A, B/R and the usual pairings from the show  
Distribution: my site (http://www.never-ending-love.de), Land of Denial, if you   
have any of my stories, take it; anybody else tell me where it goes  
Summary: Set after "Fool For Love" and partly within "Shadow". Buffy writes a   
letter to Angel. This is set into canon, in an attempt to make the whole series   
more   
B/A-friendly. But don't expect too many smootchies!   
Spoilers: the whole B/A-cannon to be sure, follows loosely "Midnight Angel",  
"Midnight Whispers", "Midnight Rainbow", "Midnight Hour", "Midnight Memory" and   
"Midnight Protector". You should probably read it to understand this. If you   
need any of them, either write to me or look at http://www.landofdenial.com. And   
you should have seen season 5/2 or you won't know what they're talking about.  
Feedback: oh yes, please  
Dedication: to Deb, because I "took" an idea from her.  
  
  
The house was dark and quiet. There was no light, besides the one Buffy had   
switched on at her desk. Her mother had gone to the hospital to stay there   
overnight to have her CAT-scan done tomorrow morning. And Dawn - she was   
with some friends. Or at least that was what she hoped.  
  
Buffy was on her own. And usually she would've welcomed it. But not today. Not   
tonight. She almost regretted that she'd told Riley she wanted to be alone. He'd   
called earlier.   
  
He was always so concerned about her. So sweet and thoughtful. Poor Riley. Such a nice guy. Why couldn't she just go and fall in love with a nice guy like him. An easy, uncomplicated relationship. But obviously, Buffy and uncomplicated didn't mix. And why should they. She was the slayer. Nothing uncomplicated there. She should be glad she had Riley. He knew about vampires. He'd known about them before they met.  
  
As Angel had known.   
  
A harsh laugh escaped her throat and she slightly shook her head. What a joke.   
Angel had known. He *was* a vampire for God's sake. And that was the real   
problem.  
  
Or maybe not.  
  
Maybe it was the only solution. Only Angel was too pigheaded, too stubborn to see it. Sure, there was the curse, but they'd managed to live with it for over a   
year. And they had dated, kissed, all the girl- and boyfriend-ly stuff. It had been hard, yeah, but it had been nice too. Really nice.  
  
But Angel was rather obsessing about Darla these days. No time left for little   
Buffy. But hey, she shouldn't be ungrateful. He had told her about Darla. Hadn't   
he said that? God, how generous could a guy be? What a jerk.  
  
She closed her eyes for a short moment, amending her last thought instantly. She   
had no right to judge him. She had not the slightest idea what he was going   
through. Her conversation with Spike had made her thinking. There were so many   
things between vampires, sire and childe, she didn't understand. Angel and Darla   
had spent more than a century together, they had a history, while she and Angel   
had ... well, yeah, they had a history too, but compared to Darla it was a rather short one.  
  
She shouldn't have insisted for him to tell her, to bare his soul. She should've   
been understanding, but no, in typical Buffy-fashion she'd stormed off, feeling   
righteous. Dammit, would she ever learn?  
  
Opening her eyes she looked around the barely lit room, her thoughts   
travelling to Dawn and Glory, to her mother, to Riley again. Then her eyes fell   
on some stationary her mother had given her for her last birthday and a thought   
formed in her head.   
  
She would write to him. She would write. On a personal paper, not some cold,   
impersonal e-mail. And she would make him understand.   
  
Without thinking twice she fished for a pencil, pulled out a sheet and started to write.  
  
'Dear Angel,  
  
'you will probably never read this letter. After how we separated the last time   
we met, you're probably going to throw it away the moment you see it. But I'm   
going to write it nevertheless.  
  
'First of all, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for bitching at you, for my jealous   
behaviour. But you're not off the hook, buddy. You have some serious apologizing   
to do as well. We both behaved horribly, but I've come to the conclusion that   
some stupid fight cannot end something that's so precious and dear to me.  
  
'I mean our friendship. It was wonderful to talk to you again. It was good to see you and you were right. Being with you as a friend is better than not being with you at all. And although it hurts, it seems all we have at the moment, and I'm not going to throw it away. I can't. Because I need you Angel, I need your   
friendship, I need to be close to you, need someone who listens, doesn't judge,   
doesn't expect anything, just understands. You were the only person who never   
wanted me to change, who just accepted me the way I am. And I miss that. I miss   
you.  
  
'There are so many things happening. You already know about Dawn. The gang is   
researching the girl who's after her. Girl. That sounds so easy. But it isn't.   
She's strong. Incredibly so. I've never met someone that strong. Never. And I'm   
scared. What if I can't protect Dawn? What if I fail? I couldn't live with it.   
I'd rather die.   
  
'Mom's going to have a CAT-scan tomorrow morning. It seems the doctors suspect   
there's more to her headaches than they thought. And I'm scared. Seems I'm   
repeating myself, but I am. I really am. She's my mommy. My dad left us. I can't   
even reach him to tell him ... But that's another story. My mother always stuck   
to me. She never left me. I couldn't bear it. I'd be alone. Sure, there is Dawn,   
but she is only fourteen. And not even real. Although she feels real. God, this   
is a mess.  
  
'Last night I almost died. Not really. But it was close. A vampire almost killed   
me. Of course, reading this letter now, you notice it didn't happen. But it   
made me thinking. And I was talking to Giles. He let me read the Council journals   
about the Slayers. You know, the ones that died. But there was nothing in it.   
Sure,   
they wrote about them, how brave they were, how they saved humanity, but nothing   
about the slayer's last battle. Nothing. Zilch. Nada. Talk about frustrating.'  
  
Buffy smiled slightly to herself, knowing that Angel wouldn't like her next   
words. No, he wouldn't like them at all.  
  
'So I asked Spike. He killed two slayers after all. At first he wasn't very ...   
uh ... forthcoming with the information, but I can be very persuasive, as you   
might remember.'  
  
She smiled again at her own words. Yeah, Angel would remember.   
  
'He told me a lot. Why he was called William the Bloody. I always thought it was   
a vampire thing. I had no idea it had to do with him writing bloody awful poetry. He even told me where he got the idea with the railroad spikes. Yuck. Not a nice picture.'  
  
She shuddered slightly, thinking about it. One careless comment, a desperate   
man made into a soulless demon, had created a monster. At least he had a chip   
now, couldn't hurt humans, she thought not without satisfaction.  
  
'After a while Spike seemed to like telling me about all the vampire stuff. And   
I'm now understanding a lot better what it means to be a vampire. But reading   
this sentence now, I think maybe not. How can a human, a person with a soul, ever understand what it feels to live without remorse, without a conscience? And I'm thinking how it might feel to have both inside of you. God, Angel, how do you stand it?  
  
'When he was talking to me, I realised for the very first time, that my life   
might end one day. Which of course, coming from me, the girl who died at the   
master's hand, sounds pretty strange. I mean, I'm dealing with death on a daily   
basis. But somehow I've deluded myself into believing I'm invulnerable.   
Especially after the master killed me. Hey, I came back from the dead, I can do   
anything. Super-girl, you know. But I'm not,' she winced slightly, touching the   
barely healed wound on her abdomen. 'Not at all.  
  
'Spike said I wake up every day, asking myself it that's the day. You know, when   
I'm going to die. And he said that a part of me even wants it. Not just to stop   
thefear and uncertainty, but because I'm a little bit in love with it.  
  
'And I freaked. For a moment. But you know what? Not anymore. Because I've   
realised everyone is asking the same question. None of us knows when they might   
die. I will die. Probably a little earlier than the average woman. Probably a   
little more violent and painful, but that's not what I'm afraid of.   
  
'I'm not afraid to die, and it feels good to say that. There's just one thing I'm going to regret. That I couldn't spend this time with you by my side. Not because you're strong and might even be able to protect me, although it's a definite plus you can hold your own in a fight. God knows I've got to many to care about already. No, but because I love you, and I wish that when I'm going to die I could say I did live my life to the fullest.   
  
'But you know what. That's not going to happen. And you know why? Because you are too stubborn, and too noble, and yeah, I love you for that, but because of this, we will miss out what might be the greatest miracle of all. True love.  
  
'I love you, Angel. And I miss you. God, how I miss you.'  
  
Her tears were falling now, and she wiped them away with her hand. Then signed   
the letter with her name. She was looking at it when she heard the front door   
opening and Dawn swearing because she had stubbed her toe in the darkness.   
Looking back at the letter on the table, Buffy slightly shook her head, then took the sheet, tore it in two halves and dumped it. This was fruitless. She could cry her soul out, but Angel wouldn't listen. It was useless. She'd better learn to live without him. With a last look at the wastebasket, she switched off the light and left the room.  
  
*****  
  
A hand reached into the wastebasket and removed the shreds of Buffy's letter.   
Holding it for a moment, the person was looking at it thoughtfully, then flipped   
it open, and began to read.  
  
END  
  
More??? Intrigued??? 


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